Gone
by kayellin
Summary: "Somewhere, fear took all control and that's when I turned cold. Won't you give me one more chance?" - Bebe Rexha. Read and Review! Thanks for continued support for my other stories! This came to me while writing "Reckless"
1. Chapter 1

The sound of metal and glass hitting the floor of the drop ship vibrated through the walls into the openness of the camp. A slim tray crashed to the ground, bouncing back up only to crash once more onto the ground near her ankle. Crimson fingerprints lined the tray and the miniscule medical tools fashioned from whatever they could get their hands on. The color continued in little droplets until met with a pool of blood. It started at the tear of her shirt, soaking the gray fabric of her shirt like black ink but as it flowed, meeting newer—less exuberant fabric the color of her life streaming out of her lightened.

_Come on, Clarke…don't give up. _

Her fingers moved up the hot, wet fabric until her fingers touched the gash. It was almost six inches long and way too deep to be brushed off. She wanted to call for help but her vocal cords no longer worked, just like her eyes were no longer allowing her to cry. She blamed herself although it was Finn's idea to follow the stream into uncharted territory. She told him not to, she followed him telling him that they needed to go back to camp before he led them both to their deaths. If she made it out alive, she would choose her words differently. Finn was laughing, telling her to let loose and she wanted to do just that except the memory of the last time haunted her…Raven, knowing that she waited for Finn to return, haunted her. Just as she was about to express her thoughts to Finn, he was knocked out by an angry grounder. And she found herself clinching her side at the way the dull cold metal broke through her ivory skin almost half a second later.

Naturally, her first concern wasn't her own health—or life. It was Finn and getting his stubborn ass over her shoulder and dragging him (seriously dragging at some points) back to camp where she could access his head wound. Luckily, when she dropped him at the gates he woke up and slightly embarrassed, disappeared. This led her to her privacy and her current situation.

_Don't give up._

She'd attempted to clean the wound but the more she cleaned, the more blood got in the way. It was hard to apply pressure, sterilize and stitch up a wound by herself but she would be damned if she had someone else take time out of their busy wall-building, target-practicing, food-finding expeditions. The first priority was, and always will be, survival of the camp and if she wasn't doing that great of a job surviving by herself— well, that's her own business. Plus, medical treatment is her department.

She wanted to punch herself in the face. Her ego hadn't allowed her to process the fact that the camp _needed _her. She considered herself a chess piece and not one of importance, either. If they could survive a few more days…just a few, they would have a high-ranking doctor among them to take care of all their needs. Her life, her duty would be obsolete. _That _thought crossed her mind quite often—the point of where the camp realizes the "princess" is no longer needed.

Her skin was a porcelain color and if her hair were at all clean, she would look like a doll. Her dry lips and partially closed misty eyes were—

"Clarke?" Jasper's voice rang through her silent, spinning world like a whistle, "Clarke! Oh, damn, damn, damn…" He said, applying pressure to her wound with a hiss of disgust. She could hear the rustling of the spilled canisters and makeshift tools. He was fading fast—or was it her fading fast? The ceiling's welding marks were blending together with the color of the ship. Her breathing was slowing and she felt like she was going to take a much needed nap.

When was the last time she slept?

She closed her eyes, looking half-drunk as she did it. A hard slap to her face sent her reeling, her eyes fluttering open for a moment before she felt the urge to _sleep _again. She was hit once more and she heard Octavia curse under her breath.

It made her want to smile, thinking the last words she would ever hear were, "Son of a fucking bitch, goddammit Clarke wake up!" Was it morbid to smile at that? To know that the brunette cared so much that she was spitting fire and slapping the shit out of her?

But if she were to die—if she were to die right then, those wouldn't be the last words she ever heard. The last words she would hear would be, "Stay with me princess…"

And she felt inclined to do that.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Stay with me princess…" _

Her heart was thumping lowly in her chest for the next three nights like a war-drum played by a tired, sick soldier. The only indication that she wasn't _dying _was the fluttering of her eyelids, the soft rising and deflation of her chest and the returning pinkness to her lips. Her golden hair was dotted with crimson strands, mostly from Octavia sweeping her hair behind her ear repeatedly after she stitched the wound up and waited for her to wake up.

Unfortunately, she hadn't woken up the first day.

Or the second.

Or the third.

But an exasperated hiss escaped her lips at 4:32 AM on the fourth day. She twitched, a painful shiver running down her entire body as she leaned upwards to access the damage. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." The deep, raspy voice caused her to turn her head towards the drop ship wall. "You'll rip your stitches."

"What are you doing here?"

Bellamy was annoyed, "Octavia needed to sleep—everyone needed to sleep. I'm here, get over it." Clarke rolled her eyes until her sarcastic look morphed into a wince of pain. "Clarke, you okay?" She nodded her head but moved her hand to cradle her side. She was unable to form the proper words to explain the discomfort. "Hey, princess…"

Clarke shook her head, her eyes tightly pressed together until she managed labored breaths and the ability to hold a hand up towards his actions to do something about her pain. "I'm fine." She said, her eyes darting around the room for a moment or two. "Moonshine." She snapped her fingers as multiple waves of agony slammed into her. Her body jerked up at an attempt to keep herself from crying out. Bellamy took notice of this, his fearful eyes colliding with her teary blue orbs. He tried to cover it up with his typical attitude.

"I'm going to overlook the fact that you're snapping at me. Don't do it again." Bellamy grumbled as he passed her the jar. She brought the rim to her lips, tipping it back until the contents were gone. She rather feel the burn of methanol than the sharp, aching of her stab wound. "Easy, princess."

"Don't tell me what to do, Bellamy." She growled, setting the jar near her. "What did Octavia say?"

"Her knowledge of the healing process didn't manifest because you were injured, Clarke. You're the only one that knows your true condition." She pulled up her shirt, not really thinking about Bellamy and his curious ochre eyes. The thread was tied off at the end like a chain stitch but Octavia had a decent backstitch going across the wound. Her admiration for it seemed to sicken him. It was a professional admiration, though. If she wasn't used to her own sloppy stitches and rush work, she would be just as disgusted by the look of tattered thread through disgusting holes in her skin. Bellamy cleared his throat and she lowered her shirt.

She looked at his wrinkled shirt, how his broad shoulders made the dark gray fabric a much tighter fit compared to his slightly narrower waist. She noticed the 'V', the teasing way it hung down to show how muscular he _really _was. She wasn't _stupid_, she knew Bellamy was attractive. He had the physique of a Greek god and there wasn't any denying it. He practically had fan girls getting weak at the knees and failing to do their jobs just to get his attention—negative or not. His smile, though, his smile usually belonged to her if her sick sense of possessiveness was correct. They could hold his body, try to catch him like Octavia catches butterflies, but they would never truly own a piece of what she owned even if she wasn't consciously owning any of him. Clarke was positive he

"I can't—" She let out an annoyed sigh because she felt _useless _even saying it, "I'm going to have to stay off my feet for a few days. I'm sorry."

Bellamy cracked a smirk, "Only person I know that apologizes for being attacked by grounders. Although, I guess it was a little negligent."

"Finn wouldn't stop." Her slight drunkenness made her into a snitch. She shrugged that off, though. It was all Finn's fault. If he stopped for a second and thought about his actions like a sane person, she wouldn't be in this position. "Should have let him go by himself."

"You wouldn't do that." Bellamy said, his voice lower than before. "Mostly because you're not the type of person the leave someone behind. Even when you've been stabbed. You should have said something _before _doing it yourself."

"You wouldn't, either." Her head shot up to look into his eyes the way she usually does. He blinked and broke their eye contact. _What are you thinking about, Bellamy Blake? _She emitted an uneasy breath while she looked down at her torn and tattered boots. "I'm lucky, really…I should be dead."

"Don't say that."

"It's true. If I was out for four days… I should be dead. I shouldn't have been asleep that long."

"You weren't asleep, Clarke. You were practically in a coma." Bellamy corrected her with a frown. "Don't do that again, Clarke. Don't ignore your own pain…don't risk your life. You're way too important in the camp to do irresponsible things like that."

She nodded her head, "I won't."

"We both know that you will." Bellamy said, "I just want you to hear me telling you not to do it in your head while you're risking your life next time."

"You should know by now that I'm more enticed to do it if you tell me not to." Clarke said, "I have a rebellious streak too."

He ran his tongue across his mouth, sucking his teeth before crossing his arms tightly. "Be careful. That's all I'm saying."

"Sometimes you treat me like Octavia."

He chuckled at her observation, "No I don't."

"Are you trying to argue?"

"I'm glad you're better, Clarke. Get your rest." Bellamy said, knocking his knuckles on the metal table before exiting the drop ship. She sighed in his absence, lowering herself on the table to look at the welded ceiling. Despite the pain, she crossed her hands over her stomach. Her blue eyes traced every mark, every dent and every engineered piece of the ship. Her wavy hair flowed from her scalp, the dead ends highlighted by the moment of silence. There were spots of dirt and blood smeared on her face, highlighting her peaceful blue eyes like war-paint. Her breathing was broken but she felt completely calm.

She felt alive.


	3. Chapter 3

The intoxicating smell of Baby Blue Eyes, Celandine, and Agave filled her nose as Octavia trailed a wet cloth down the formerly filthy strands of her hair. Clarke found herself humming with delight at the sensation of cleanliness even if it were only a small illusion to her previous way of life. She was healing impressively but she was still found herself spending a lot of time in the drop ship with the brunette. Octavia was really doing most of the work but Clarke had to inform her on what to do in a situation. She felt like she spent more time gripping her side and hissing because she didn't know how to take it easy.

Currently, they were enjoying something Octavia referred to as "down time." Clarke found it pointless when there were a thousand things that needed to be done but she complied because there were only about six out of a thousand of those things that she could actually do. Those six things were meaningless in the scheme of camp life—Bellamy could handle them. He _was _handling them with ease. Octavia's fingers twined Clarke's hair in a tight braid and when she cursed, she knew that Octavia messed up and had to repeat the process.

"I haven't seen lover boy around…" Octavia said leadingly, she wanted to gossip but Clarke really didn't want to talk about Finn. She remembered their hot bodies pressing together and how they took comfort in each other after the death of Wells and Charlotte. She recalled their kisses and their touches. And with all those thoughts, she felt disgusted with herself and with Finn. Although, she seemed to forget that disgust whenever she was in his immediate presence and he turned those searching, cagey eyes on her. Her self-hatred for destroying Raven's life…

Raven launched herself through space in an outdated spaceship to be with Finn. Finn was too busy chasing what he could _never _have again to realize how _good _he had it with Raven. "Probably got the message, then."

Octavia nodded, "So, no relationship there?"

"Nope." Clarke said, "I was careless, I won't be careless again."

"You say that like you've sworn off love."

"There's no time for love…" She mumbled under her breath, "Can we talk about something else?"

"Let's talk about Bellamy." Clarke groaned audibly when Octavia brought up her brother. "What? He comes in here five times a day to check up on you and there's not anything to talk about?"

Clarke shrugged, "We're partners. I imagine that's what partners do. I wouldn't know for sure because I've never had a partner. Why? You checked up on Jasper about four hundred times and there wasn't any double meaning to it. You're friends."

"Partners and friends are two different things." Octavia said, "Although…I'm sure I could be wrong about that. I don't have a partner."

"Your grounder."

"Lincoln." Octavia said, "His name is Lincoln. He's not my _partner_…he's my…man? Yeah, he's my man. We are together. Calling him my boyfriend seems a little weird." It was like a switch went off in Octavia's head, "Why would you associate my man-friend with your partnership with Bellamy, hmm?"

"You're reading into something that isn't there." Her flustered voice caused Octavia to smirk widely, "Seriously Octavia—stop. I'm not interested in anyone and your need to pair your brother up with someone less…less…"

"Loose, slutty, fast…etcetera, etcetera."

"Yes, less loose, is an obsession you need to part with. Your brother, if he ever decides to settle, will find someone that fits him. He does not need his little sister playing matchmaker, just like I don't need his little sister being my matchmaker."

Octavia sighed, "You're both so stubborn you need a fucking matchmaker or a major event to get anything done. I swear to god, you two could meet your soulmate tomorrow and wait seventeen years to make a move."

"Soul mates are a myth used to make people feel better about arranged marriages and oppressive religions." Clarke huffed, "And love is nothing but a chemical reaction stimulated by psychological reactions to certain familiarities and desires."

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you respond to Finn then?"

Clarke furrowed her brows, searched her mind and replied. "I've spent my entire life following a specific group of standards set by high class elitist. The only _real _law I ever broke was to save lives…and Finn was free and adventurous in a way that I've always wanted to be. But that's _not who I am. _That's not who I'm ever going to be…devious and carelessness aren't the words I would want to describe me. It was a daze. And physically, we connected I suppose… although I wouldn't describe the experience as enjoyable."

"And there isn't anything that causes you to _respond _when you see my brother?"

"Sure, he's attractive and there are characteristics in which I find appealing but there is not a romantic relationship in the future. None whatsoever. Why do people do this? Gossip and talk about their relationships, hmm? Because Wells was my only friend on the Ark and we just read books and discussed our studies…played chess."

"I lived underneath a floorboard and my relationships are better than yours. Does that saying something about me or you?"

"You're a strong person, Octavia. It's always been about survival with you…I, on the other hand, only had to bank on matters of the brain."

"Luckily, Bellamy is the instinct to your brain."

"I have good instincts for the most part and Bellamy is smart."

"Oh, sure, you're great without each other. You function perfectly fine. But together—partners or otherwise, you are _better._"

"There is never going to be an otherwise, Octavia. Last time I'm going to tell you this."

She heard footsteps and assumed Bellamy was making one of his checkups. She turned her head around so fast that she nearly broke her neck to meet his eyes. Octavia concealed a knowing smirk before her eyes darkened. Clarke's mouth opened slightly at the sight of the last person she wanted to see.

Finn.


	4. Chapter 4

Her eyes scanned his person for any signs that he wasn't there to talk about _them. _She had no such luck finding any indication that he wanted to talk about something like gun control, anti-violence approaches, or construction of the wall. No, he wanted to talk about their nonexistent relationship and the fact that he "loves" her. He wanted to bring up painful memories and open up wounds that had not yet healed for the sake of making himself feel better about nearly getting her killed. She watched as his hand moved into his pocket nervously before he opened his mouth to speak, "We need to talk." The way he said it made Clarke _angry _for Octavia. It was as if he were disregarding her presence, belittling the fact that she saved Clarke's life by implying she shouldn't be in the room to hear him make a fool out of himself. "Alone." He clarified, sweeping his untamed hair back with a rough hand motion before turning his eyes on Clarke.

Clarke inhaled, the smell of the wildflower mixture calming her nerves as she opened her mouth to speak. "You don't have to leave, Octavia." She said in calm but stern voice. "Finn won't be staying long." Octavia's eyes brightened and Clarke recognized her matchmaking wheels as they spun and spun, registering a deeper meaning for Clarke's distaste for Finn rather than the most obvious reason. Clarke found herself shaking her head in the negative at Octavia but the brunette did not listen. She only calculated. "There really isn't anything to talk about."

Uncomfortable with Octavia's presence, Finn reluctantly pushed forward in his speech. "I love you Clarke."

Octavia scoffed, "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your bullshit. Please continue." Finn narrowed his eyes at her and Clarke only found in more of a reason to dismiss him. Octavia saved her life—if he loved her as much as he claimed, he would be a little more hesitant to get annoyed with her.

"I thought you were going to die. I was scared…I was terrified, actually, that we wouldn't be able to continue our story. I want you to know that I won't take no for an answer. I'm not going to give up on you…I know that you're hurting, that you're upset about Raven but I can end that the second you agree to be with me. I just—"

"No." Clarke said, "It's like you don't even hear yourself when you speak. You won't leave her, Finn, not until you know that this is a done deal and even then…even then, what's to say you won't choose her when your fascination with me wears off? I'm not going to play the part of the other woman in your drama, Finn. I'm not ever going to be yours. The reason I am hurting physically and emotionally all traces back to you because you're irresponsible. You don't think about other people—you think about your immediate needs and your romanticized fantasies. I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not…I'm not sorry I don't want to be with you. So, please, for your sake...learn to take no for an answer."

He sighed, "You're only saying this because Octavia is here and you don't want her to run back to Bellamy with our business. I understand. We can talk about it later."

"What does Bellamy have to do with anything?" Clarke said, "What happened with us has nothing to do with Bellamy? _You _lied_. You _cheated on your girlfriend. _You _wanted to play explorer and got knocked out by a grounder. _You _came in here to deliver as speech that I have no interest in hearing. Not Bellamy—Bellamy isn't even part of this."

"If he knew about us, he would use it as a weakness to negotiate with you."

"I don't know if I'm more upset that you think I'm that weak or if you think my partner is the cruel. Bellamy doesn't have to con me into siding with him. We make logical, instinctive, reasonable and necessary decisions based on fact and gut. I trust him a lot more than I trust you, Finn."

"He's shady!"

"You must not have a mirror, Finn."

"He treats Clarke a lot better than you do." Octavia mumbled and Clarke could have sworn she heard an electric surge heat up the entire drop ship but she hadn't. It was the sound of everything popping out of place and Finn's anger morphing into a rueful jealousy.

Finn took a step back, "Is that what's going on? You're _with _him?" He shook his head, "That's not _right_, Clarke. He's an animal. He's a _monster._"

"We're not—"

He put his hands in the air, "We'll talk when he breaks your heart because that's exactly what he'll do. You know that right? He's the dangerous type. You think he's challenging you…you think his protective act is _hot. _It's not. He's going to tear you into pieces. But from the looks of it, I don't even know who you are anymore—"

"—together, Finn. You don't know what you're talking about. Bellamy and I are strictly platonic. Can you stop talking over me? Finn! Just stop! Shut up, shut up, shut up! You don't know the first thing about him! Get out!" She started screaming, her face turning a bright red as they got into one of the worst fights she'd ever been in.

"—you've changed to fit his criteria but I know the real you. I know who you are, princess. You wouldn't have to change for me. I would never make you change for me."

"We aren't together." Clarke said, "And you don't _know _me. Just because we had sex doesn't mean you know my soul—it doesn't mean you know a damn thing about me. I'm not a book you can check out of the fucking library although it seems that way sometimes with you. You read me, you get tired of me and then you go back to the story of your life—Raven. Raven is your girlfriend and I'm never going to take her title."

He mumbled, "You're no better…"

"What?"

"You're no better than those other girls parading themselves around camp for him. You sleep with him for power? You sleep with him to keep yourself warm? Are you with him so the people will listen to you? You're no better than him, you're no better than them. It's all about power and corruption and violence here."

"Whoa!" Octavia put her hands in the air, stepping in the middle of Finn and Clarke. "Watch your mouth. Bellamy is my brother and Clarke is my friend. You won't disrespect either of them. Get out of here, Finn. The fight is over."

"Now, Octavia—I've had quite enough with you getting in my business—"

Clarke moved off the table, wincing at the pain, and slapped him across the face with as much strength she could manage. "Don't talk to her that way."

"I'm sorry I disrespected your little _sister_, don't tell your master." Finn backed out of the drop ship, his hand moving to his face as he walked.

"As badass as that was, you shouldn't move like that. Come on, sit down." Octavia led Clarke back to the table, "Thank you…by the way. You didn't have to stick up for me."

"Yeah, I did." Clarke smiled, "I'll always defend you, O. I owe it to you."

**Review! **


	5. Chapter 5

"I heard an interesting rumor…" Bellamy started, throwing a ration sack towards Octavia and then towards Clarke with a small smile on his lips. He looked exhausted but he also looked _good. _It might have been the fact that he was too tired to form his usual disapproving, scowl or the fact that he was relaxed in their presence. Clarke's artist eyes traced the freckles on his cheeks and observed the way each strand of his damp black hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. "Did you slap spacewalker in the face today?"

"Sure did." Octavia answered for Clarke with a grin, her eyes lighting up at Bellamy's obvious amusement.

Clarke grumbled, "I'm sure you're about to hear lots of rumors."

"Why's that?"

Octavia giggled as Clarke explained, "You know Finn, he comes in here to profess his love and—"

"Complete bullshit."

"—he starts running his mouth about everything. Somewhere along the lines he gets it into his head that we're romantically involved. Insane, right?"

"Really not the much of a stretch. We spend all of our time together. I could see where he would get that except for the fact that we aren't _romantically involved_ and we've never shown a sign that we were." Bellamy said, "So that's the rumor? No big deal."

Clarke opened her mouth, feeling like a fish every time she closed it only to open her mouth again. "Not that big of a deal? I don't want people thinking we're together."

Bellamy shrugged, "It doesn't really matter what they think. We know we aren't together unless you know something I don't." He laughed at his own joke, his hands running across the supplies and other things he could touch while he talked.

Octavia snorted, "But you haven't even heard the best part. Apparently, the only reason you two are involved has to do with power. Clarke's using you, man. Sucks."

"Yeah, according to Finn I like to sleep with you to keep my back warm and to make people listen to me."

"He really said that?"

"Yes." Octavia and Clarke said together.

"And all you did was slap him?" Bellamy was annoyed, the smile slipping off his face as he thought of things he could do to Finn. He would not tolerate his disrespect. Clarke earned her position the hard way—she could have easily slept with Bellamy weeks ago but she fought for her right to be heard and respected. Finn could not demean that because he was jealous due to false accusations. Bellamy could see the hurt in her eyes at the mere thought that she would lay down with him for a leadership role. Never once did it cross his mind that he wouldn't have sex with Clarke—of course he would have sex with Clarke.

Her honey soft ivory skin and sharp tongue sent siren calls to him from across camp. Her oceanic eyes powered by her take-off-your-armor, lay-down-your-weapon, persuasive gaze sometimes casted a chill over his normally heated body and sent him running in the opposite direction. The way she argued with him even though he was stronger, more physically fit, slightly psychotic at some points and older was…well, it was arousing to have someone who did not hold their verbal (sometimes physical) assaults back due to their fear of _him_. Clarke was scared—they were all scared—but she only truly feared the things she could not touch, could not see, but could feel like a flame against her skin—she never feared him.

"It was a fit of jealousy. He'll realize he's wrong and try to repent tomorrow after he drunkenly spills his secrets to Jasper and Monty." Clarke rolled her eyes, "Plus Dr. Octavia Blake doesn't like it when I disobey direct orders. I think you could learn from my example when it comes to injuries and proper healing time."

"Excuse me?" Bellamy chuckled incredulously, "You almost ripped your stitches _yesterday, _princess. One day without a major medical mishap and you're lecturing me on proper etiquette for the next time I get stabbed or shot? That's highly hypocritical."

Clarke's lips turned up into a smile, "At least I haven't _actually _ripped my stitches. You have. I'm still the better patient." She heard Octavia snort behind her in disbelief that the words were actually coming out of her mouth.

"You are by far the worst patient in the world." Octavia said, "You won't sit still. You try to do my temporary job. You argue with Bellamy every time he comes in here. Your stitches might still be intact but that's because I'm talented when it comes to sewing, not because of your actions. If you were recovering with a simple stitch such as the ones Bellamy using gets—you'd be in the same category with him. Why? Because you're both stubborn. You both refuse to listen to anyone."

"Ha, I win." Bellamy claimed like a proud two-year old. She wanted to slap him and she wanted to laugh at his victory face. She wanted to enjoy Bellamy while it lasted before he turned into _Bellamy. _She admired the strong warrior with the bad attitude and demons just as much as she admired the carefree, slightly flirtatious version of him. She just wished she could see the corners of his eyes wrinkle with laughter more often, or see just how far his smile could actually stretch until his teeth were showing.

Her frown wasn't convincing anyone, "Because the judge is your sister. This was not a fair battle."

"Mmm, fine." Bellamy winked, "I _know _how you can really win…"

"Too soon for sexual innuendos about power plays." Clarke said, "Although, my back is getting a little cold."

"You two are insufferable." Octavia said, "Get a room. I'm glad you can turn a serious thing into a joke."

They both shrugged, "Coping mechanism." Bellamy said and Clarke agreed. "Learn to turn everything into a joke like Monty and Jasper so we don't combust with anger. It's not going to work, I've decided on that already."

"Yeah, me too. We aren't built for comedy. We're built for punching people in the face and breaking things." Clarke agreed, "I don't think it's funny that Finn thinks I'm prostituting myself out for power or a place in our community."

"Me either." Bellamy said, his eyebrow twitching at the thought. "I don't think it's funny that he hurts you because he's reckless. I don't think it's funny that he's still part of your day-to-day life and he nearly got you killed."

"I guess none of it is really funny." Clarke shrugged, "It was worth the laugh though…for a second."

"Yeah." Bellamy nodded, "I think Finn needs to be taught a lesson."

"I think he needs to know what it feels like to be jilted." Octavia said, "He cheated on Raven. He strings you along…he needs to know how it feels so he'll never do it again."

"What are you proposing, O?"

Octavia shrugged, "Like Bellamy says…he needs to be taught a lesson."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Clarke found herself above the childish proposition from Octavia. What was the point? She was not going to pretend to date Bellamy! She'd read enough books to know that it didn't _work. _Friends with benefits and these playful schemes always _hurt _more than the intended person. She wasn't willing to sacrifice her partnership for revenge. It bothered her that the thought even crossed her mind—Bellamy didn't have feelings for her, she knew that…and if he didn't have feelings for her, that meant somewhere in her mind she had feelings for him, right? That meant _she _was scared Bellamy would hurt _her_ if she were put in the vulnerable position of fake dating him. Of course, the pain to her heart would be unintentional but still it was unsettling to think about _liking _him.

Attraction was something she'd accepted.

But to _like _his everything—his walk, the way he talks, the color of his eyes, the feeling he brings on? It was enough to give her goose bumps.

She joined her friends around the fire, watching Monty and Jasper argue over trivial nonsense on Earth culture. Jasper's knowledge outweighed Monty's but Monty spent a lot of time listening to Jasper spout off the useless information and Monty had quite the learning curve. She smiled with them when she was brought into the debate on television, "I didn't study much on pop culture. I studied biological things such as Darwinism and more in depth Earth studies. Did you know there is a scorpion that—"

"Clarke, we need to talk." Finn walked up behind her as she was about to go in depth about her favorite scorpion. The charcoal black Androctonus is a highly toxic scorpion found in the Middle East and North Africa. Clarke admired that it normally didn't attack but the name meant "man-killer." It had the ability to cause a person to convulse, become paralyzed or fall into a coma but it _rarely _attacked unless threatened…it amazed her that something so deadly could have a non-aggressive temperament.

She thought about the scorpion as she followed behind Finn, mainly because she didn't want to make a scene in front her friends. It was _always _a scene from a drama with him. "I don't want to have this conversation again."

"Then stop saying _no._" Finn pleaded, "I realize that I was wrong. If you say you're not with Bellamy, I believe you. Okay? I'm sorry. I just don't understand—I want to be with you, Clarke. I could be with you. We could be happy and it's like…I don't know, it's like you don't want to be happy with me."

"Because I don't want to be with you." She heard her voice raise with her bubbling anger because Finn wasn't _getting it. _She crossed her arms for a sense of protection but she felt on edge still. She needed to control herself before she did something insane like hit him again. "And just because I don't want to be with you doesn't mean I want to be with someone else. I don't depend on relationships like you seem to. I don't have the constant urge to fuck and fuck and fuck with someone's emotions until I'm satisfied. I'm telling you up front that I don't want you, Finn. If you make the choice to hurt yourself in the process of chasing something that you can never have then do it but you'll be running for ever because I'm long gone."

"So there is someone else?"

Clarke really wanted to hit him but she reframed from doing so. "Maybe there is, maybe there isn't. I don't really feel obligated to tell you anything about my relationship status. Even if I were to tell you for the millionth time that I am single, you wouldn't hear me—you'd only think I was hiding my relationship with someone."

"If we're going to get back together, I don't want you to associate with Bellamy anymore."

"We're not getting back together and I'm _never _going to sacrifice the camp because you're jealous of Bellamy. This conversation is over. _We _are over." Clarke turned to walk away but she felt his hand come around her wrist. She shook her head back and forth, "Let me go, Finn. Just let me go." She thought about the scorpion—only when threatened…she felt threatened. He took a step towards her and Clarke turned her face downward so he wouldn't touch her lips.

She backed away, jerking her wrist from his grip and felt the friction of skin rubbing against skin in a forceful tug. "Don't do this…" He begged, "You'll regret it, Clarke…just don't do this."

Clarke was entirely unaware they were being watched through terra-cota eyes the entire time Finn and she argued. She started walking away from the camp instead of towards it because she didn't want to return to her state of bliss with her friends. Her face slammed into his muscular chest and her breath caught in her throat as she held back the angry tears that threatened to fall from the brims of her eyes. She wiped at her face with her knuckles while placed a tender hand across her cheek, his eyes moving over to meet Finn's eyes for a second—daggers and bullets and brimstone seemed to shoot from his faux-possessive glare, at least, Clarke assumed it was fake.

He captured her mouth with an urgency she could not describe—it felt real. It didn't feel like a battle strategy or a charity kiss so Finn would leave her alone. Her shocked breath caused her lips to part and Bellamy took the opportunity to deepen the embrace. It was a long, drugging kiss. Fierce and hungry. Pervasive and mindless. Thorough and a voracious invitation to continue. She _wanted _more and more and more and more. She found herself unable to stop and something about the way Bellamy's tongue danced with her own told her he didn't want to stop either. She felt him move against her, felt his arms wrapped around her waist and felt him step forward as if he were looking for a hard surface instead of the open area. Her hands were full of his jacket.

He started to pull back, sucking her trembling bottom lip before breaking the kiss. He leaned down his head and Clarke turned her face towards Finn. He was eyeing her and she was uncomfortable with his stare. The only reason she glanced over was to see if she was alone with Bellamy—if Finn had given up. The look in his eyes said _no. _

"_You'll regret it, Clarke…"_

And she didn't know if that was her voice or Finn's warning her about her next choice.

Naturally, she didn't listen.

She didn't want to listen to the _fear. _

"Why did you do that?" She asked Bellamy, still gripping Bellamy's jacket. If she moved a centimeter towards them—they could kiss again. She wanted to kiss him again and for a long time. Finn didn't matter right now. "I can handle myself." He ran his eyes around the camp to see if anyone else saw their public display of affection. It didn't seem like they'd been noticed. Of course, Finn would tell…he always told when he was too drunk to think straight. "I didn't need you to save me."

"I know." He brought his hand back up to rub her cheek with his thumb, "That was a mistake on my behalf. It won't happen again."

_I associate with you way too much to not know when you're lying… _Clarke thought as he parted from her in the same manner in which he appeared; quite suddenly.


End file.
